


Display

by yeaka



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Dominance, Ficlet, M/M, Public Claiming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 08:37:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7928068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike argues, so Harvey puts him in his place in the middle of the street.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Display

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pt_tucker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pt_tucker/gifts).



> A/N: Fill for “Public Places” prompt on [my bingo card](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/149673766130/fic-bingo).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Suits or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It’s not that a cute omega trailing him about like a lost puppy is a hindrance, it’s just that that puppy has such a smart-ass mouth. Half the reason for getting out of the office is so they don’t have to fight about it in front of Donna, and the other half is that Harvey’s genuinely craving a bagel. He blames Mike’s pestering for slowing him down when he gets to his favourite vendor only to find a line waiting. If he wanted, Harvey could probably cut to the front of it, but the more public setting hasn’t deterred Mike in the least. He’s still right at Harvey’s side, bristling, “You don’t understand, you weren’t there for the deposition—”

“Because you said you could handle it,” Harvey throws in with a casual glance that should say it all. Mike rolls his eyes like that’s not completely relevant—Harvey said no puppies at the table, no kids with the grownups, _no omegas trying to face off actual betas._ But Mike said he was ready, and Harvey really thought he was.

Mike still hisses too low for anyone else to hear, “This guy’s serious, Harvey. You can’t just bullshit out of this one with cocky posturing.”

Harvey gives him a more incredulous look. Mike shouldn’t be accusing anyone of cockiness. But more importantly, Harvey reminds him, “I deal with idiots like that for a living, Mike. I said I’d take over, and when I come on the scene, I _win_.”

“You don’t have the ammo to win—he blew holes in all my arguments—”

“Which I don’t need, because, like you noticed, Logan’s all posturing, and one look from me will put his tail between his legs.”

Mike actually has the audacity to roll his eyes again, neck lolling back with the exasperated expression. By now, there’s only one person left in the line in front of them. Mike says, “Harvey—” and Harvey ignores it to step out of that line, because apparently, now that he’s hired someone even more difficult than Louis, he can’t even eat a bagel in peace. 

Still in the middle of the sidewalk, Harvey reaches out to grab a chunk of Mike’s hair. Mike tries to jerk away but isn’t quick enough, and Harvey gets a firm grip. He pushes Mike down, and Mike grits his teeth, looking about at all the people milling by and hissing, “Harvey—” 

But Harvey’s an alpha that radiates the scent, dressed in an absurdly expensive suit with money and power leaking out of every pore. They get a few side-glances, but no one stops to say a word as Harvey pushes Mike hard enough to make his knees buckle. He’s forced to squat on the ground, and Harvey pushes him all the way until he’s kneeling there, his own crisp suit—bought with Harvey’s money—not enough to command any more power than Harvey has. Harvey holds Mike at his feet and watches Mike’s long lashes cover his clear eyes, his throat showing an audible swallow. A subtle shiver runs through Mike’s body, reverberating into Harvey’s palm, like it always does when Harvey touches him. He’s good at his impersonation, but it always falls away when he’s under Harvey’s thumb. Harvey barks, “Stay,” and isn’t surprised when Mike’s eyes fly open to complete his indignant look.

Harvey lets go of his hair to march over to the now-open street vendor, who hands Harvey the usual bagel with a barely-concealed grin. Harvey flashes his card and a knowing smile—as difficult as Mike can be, he’s definitely good eye candy.

He’s halfway to his feet by the time Harvey’s swung back to him, but Harvey shoves him back down again, and Mike just grunts and takes it. His cheeks are already flushed, pupils a little dilated. Now he doesn’t look around him at all, stubbornly not acknowledging the very public setting. Harvey takes it a step further. When he’s finished his first bike, he breaks a chunk off next to it and holds the piece down to Mike’s lips. Mike mutters, “Harvey, I get what you’re trying to do, but Logan’s not like me—”

“No,” Harvey cuts in, shoving the bagel piece right into Mike’s mouth. Mike grunts but takes it. “He’s less stubborn.”

Mike chews his mouthful and swallows, clearly ready to talk again, but Harvey keeps his fingers in Mike’s mouth the entire time, and as soon as the bagel’s down, he pins Mike’s tongue. Mike bristles, but his eyes flash, his body oh-so-slightly tilting forward. Harvey pets Mike’s tongue and starts to gently thrust in and out. Mike makes a lewd, choked moaning noise, shoulders going slack and pupils blowing wider. Now they’re really getting looks, and it’s unusual, this open, but not forbidden: some omegas are bratty enough to need a public lesson. Harvey fucks Mike’s mouth with his fingers while he calmly explains, “I don’t bluff idly, Mike. I do it when I need to and when I know it’ll work. And I’ve seen that kid’s type a million times, and I _know_ I can dominate him just as easily as I do you. He might’ve seen through your beta charade, but I’m an actual _alpha_ , one of the highest in my firm, and I put betas like him in their place all day long. Now, do you have faith in me yet, or am I going to have to fuck you right here on the street to show you just how damn good I am at dominating men that need knocking down?”

Mike doesn’t answer, can’t, because his mouth is full of Harvey’s fingers, and he’s busy sucking on them like Harvey knew he would. He’s completely flushed now, arched into Harvey’s touch, that gorgeous _fuck-me-now_ look all over him. He can take chemicals to mask his pheromones, can use his genius brain and his overconfident attitude to fool most of their clients, but he’s still _an omega_ , and he’s still _Harvey’s_ , and it’s almost worryingly easy to expose that.

He’ll still be a good lawyer someday. He’s worth the chance. And he’s worth more than a scolding fuck in public when Harvey knows he’d far rather be dragged by the tie back to the couch in Harvey’s office. When Harvey does pull his fingers out, Mike looks ready to bury himself in Harvey’s crotch. 

But he’s stronger than that. He shudders and looks up, nodding. Harvey knows better than to expect an apology over this. With a sigh, Harvey runs his free hand through Mike’s hair one more time, and the way Mike looks at him makes up for all the trouble. Tomorrow’s deposition isn’t a topic anymore.

Harvey bites into his bagel and abruptly turns to leave, waving a hand over his shoulder to signal Mike to follow.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Showtime](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7982953) by [pt_tucker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pt_tucker/pseuds/pt_tucker)




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